Dishes and Insecurity

     Just as I got done determining at 9:30 p.m. I needed to shut it down for the day and head upstairs and get ready for bed, (I am usually an 11:30-12:00 kind of girl and my body hates me when the alarm goes off at 4:30 a.m. for my workout.) I paused from finishing up dishes to sit down and write. It's now 9:31....people, my best laid plans always fail. But I justify this as journaling and so therefore it is, well, justified. Right?!

     Anyhoot, as I was washing sludge out of bowls, scraping crust out of pans and feeling my fingers began to wrinkle, I wondered. I wondered why today I felt like invisibility would be nice. I wondered how it is that one day I could feel so outgoing and the next subconsciously long for anonymity. To live in my cave, nestled close to the ones who truly know me.

     And then somehow I connected some mental dots.

     Last night I was eating dinner with a group of women before a broadcast I had gone to watch. The conversation was humorous and we were all having a good time. Then the conversation turned, in jest, towards making fun of people who look a certain way. But by a certain way, I don't mean the people who you typically associate with being bullied. No, this was kind of a reverse bullying. The people being referred to were those ladies who otherwise look like they have it all together. Perky boobs, even tans, smooth, wrinkle free skin, perfect hair and nails, you get the idea. One of the ladies was joking about how she wished ill on people like that. That those are the people you want to see fall flat on their face or in her words "fart in public".

     I chuckled uneasily, but inside I groaned. Why do women do this to each other? It is said that even in jest there is truth. So even if it was a comedy routine, you know that person who was saying those things really felt that way. Don't get me wrong, what little I know of this gal, I love her. She is witty, fun, beautiful, talented and has a personality you can't help but be drawn to. So I didn't understand the insecurity she blamed for wishing ill on those Barbie types. Didn't she understand how fabulous she was?

     I couldn't help but think that we all have motivations for whatever our -isms are in life. Maybe the "Barbie types" (if we want to label them as such, but really I am not comfortable with that) do what they do to fulfill a need and that works for them? My main thought just was, why do we label each other? Why do we form opinions of people whose hearts we don't know? Whether you are skinny or plump, crafty or spartan, intelligent or simple, witty or dull, boisterous or quiet, or whatever scheme of opposites you could throw on the spectrum, why do we care? Why do we compare? Why do we look to others to validate how we feel about ourselves?

     But then as this string of thoughts was flowing through my brain I realized, I myself am guilty as charged. Because the whole conversation left me sadly wondering who have I been labeled as? The craving to be a ghost started to sneak in. What conclusions have people drawn about me? It left me feeling naked in the middle of a crowded room. We are all seen everyday of our lives. But there is something gloriously gratifying about being seen. Not for our exteriors, but for our hearts, our minds, our motivations and who we are beyond face value. And yet, as a society and as individuals there is such a draw to write in stone who a person is and what their worth is, based on what only the eye sees.

     And that frankly makes my heart very sad.

     Last week in Primary (the organization for children in my church, where I volunteer), my awesome friend's daughter, Autumn, got up and read from the book "You are Special" by Max Lucado. In it you follow the journey of a little puppet who struggles with other people's views of him too. In the end he discovers that all that really matters is what the woodcarver, his Maker, thinks of him. It's moments like this I find myself so incredibly grateful to have children in my life, both at home and at church. Because they help me see things as clearly as they should be seen. And when life finds a way of streaking the glass of our perception, there are those little hands that help wipe it clear again.

     As I type, I know in my heart, my little light wasn't meant to hide out in a cave, isolated from the world. Even if some days that feels like the safest place to be. I know I just have to continue to work on me and know that my best efforts are good enough for my Maker....and hope other people come to realize the same for themselves. Because while we are all so very different, we are His, and just right in His eyes.

Adventures With Mayo...

Brynna just got done watching me, with both fascination and concern, as I schmeared mayonnaise through my hair. (I strongly dislike mayo...taste, smell, feel...so this is taking one for the team. And by team I mean every strand of hair on my head.) Supposedly mayonnaise is supposed to be really good for your hair. And since I am trying to grow out a little length, but also am in the habit of using the blow dryer and flat iron on my hair most days, my ends have started getting to be a little too dry. And as we know, there is no point in having long hair if it looks like wisps of dry, crunchy hay. (I have a visual in my head right now of the horses we were feeding at the barn on Thursday. Noisily crunching and munching on the handfuls of hay the Littles and I were feeding them while the Biggles were having their riding lessons. Yeah....not so interested in having that adorn my face.) So as a result of dreaming of long, silky, luxurious locks I have resorted to ridiculous behavior, like lathering myself in condiments. If you run in to me later looking like a greaseball or smelling like a macaroni salad, I am placing full blame on Pinterest for this one!

P.S. In case you were wondering, here is a Young Crew vocab lesson for you. "Littles" = Lauryn and Devyn, my younger two. And as you may have guessed "Biggles" = Maryn and Brynna, my older two.

Love This!!

 Click below to see how one woman celebrated her 38th Birthday by performing 38 Random Acts of Kindness!

Random Acts of Kindness Birthday Ideas

This is the coolest idea ever. 

I am so doing it for my next birthday!

Dave Would Be Proud

 

 I don't know if everyone knows who Dave Ramsey is, but he would be proud of me. I just finished pounding out my budget for next month and am determined to stick to it. Cash only, no cards, no excuses. In the past few months it seems like we have had a ton of expenses with our rental house and as of this moment it is sitting empty...I had my freak-out last month. Now I am trying to remain calm and have faith we will find good tenants and that it is going to be okay rather than suck my thumb at the thought of double house payments. Also the girls have been in activities that were awesome, but not cheap. The older girls have been growing which means new clothes and all that too. We have been blessed to have our needs met, but I've decided I can be a much better steward of our family's finances and be more disciplined in tracking our family's spending. As Dave says, I need to make my money work for me and not me work for my money. So here we go...let's just hope I don't get mugged and have all my cash for the month stolen! ;) 

Visiting Teaching

      

    

     One of the things I love about being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is the total feeling of family. Since we moved back to Georgia last year one of the things we have missed the most is being near family. I was spoiled for the first 31 years of my life to have family nearby. People who knew me and were easy to lean on. But I have truly gained a better appreciation for the Church as I have watched in others' lives and felt in my own the way members of my church circle their wagons, so to speak, around one another. If there is illness, babies being born, job loss, a move, a death in the family, just having a bad day or whatever it may be, someone is there. And more often than that, many people are there. To love you, support you, physically feed you or spiritually nurture you.

     In our Church we have a women's organization called the Relief Society. This group of women, of which I am a member of, accepts Christ's invitation to love and take care of one another through a program called Visiting Teaching. Each woman is assigned another woman or women, or as we call them Sisters (because we are all God's children and therefore literally spiritual sisters) to accept stewardship over. This includes checking on that individual's needs, offering sincere friendship and also to be a spiritual support to that individual. Admittedly when I was in my twenties, probably because I was in my comfort zone, I didn't catch the full vision on Visiting Teaching myself. I didn't really magnify my calling or sometimes had a bad attitude about it because I hadn't fully gained a testimony of or appreciation for the program. I would do it, but my heart wasn't in it.

     However, when we moved from Georgia to Oregon at the beginning of 2010 I had never felt more like a fish out of familiar water. I was coming out of a very difficult time in my life and also heading into another. I had my parents close by, but I was without a true friendship outside of my family. But then shortly after arriving in Oregon, two women, Heidi and Marci, were assigned to be my Visiting Teachers. I immediately felt at ease with these two women, as Heidi cracked jokes and broke the ice and Marci shared her positive, easygoing outlook. I felt a humble gratitude that Heavenly Father had sent me just what I was needing at that time. We weren't necessarily in each others' back pockets all the time, but I knew without knowing them for very long that I could count on them for anything.

     Heidi seemed to show up without warning on a moment of inspiration that was so in tune with my unvoiced thoughts that it was uncanny. She offered sound advice mixed with humor to lighten whatever was troubling me. Marci too, who had a passel of young boys in tow, would show up with flowers or cookies and a smile that exuded the selfless love she demonstrated to every one she came in contact with. Oregon continued to be a hard time for us, but I can truly say, those women were my bright spot. They never made me feel I was their assignment, but truly became my friends.

     Fast forward to this morning. I found myself sitting on a couch in the living room of a woman I had barely met. We talked, shared experiences and things we had in common. I know it sounds crazy, but by the time I left I felt true, genuine love for this sister. We talked about how it doesn't matter if we grew up in the Church or converted later in life, or if we have been inactive or active, or not even a member of the Church, we are all the same. We are all God's children and He loves us not just collectively, but individually. We talked about how each and every one of us are flawed, but trying each day to do what is right in our own way and in our own time. We talked about how we all travel paths of spirituality or understanding in this life at different paces and how that is okay.

     I have come to understand that we are each given trials in this life, that sometimes seem unexplainable, for a reason. So many times we can't help from asking God "Why me?", "Why now?", or "What do I do?" There are those moments you find yourself being comforted by someone else's experience in the water you are trying so hard to tread, but feel like you are sinking in. The voice that says, I have survived this and so can you. Lean on me. Suddenly you find gratitude for someone else's trial, someone else's experience. And then there are those full-circle moments after you survived and find yourself on spiritually solid ground where you can use your hurt, your trials, your worry or your heartbreak to be that voice of encouragement to others. Because through the love and light of Christ there is relief for us all.

     So often I find myself feeling I am an unworthy servant of my Savior. I get frustrated with my kids. Most days my house looks like a mine field of toys, shoes, dishes and laundry. I procrastinate. I don't read my scriptures as often as I should and a million other things I could improve on. It's easy to beat yourself up. To forget your purpose; the one that was designed specifically for you. It's easy to stand still rather than progress out of fear or self-doubt. It's easy to sell yourself short of being your best you.

     It's times like these where I find myself thankful for the women in my life, those conduits of Christ's love, who have said through their actions; that meal, quote, kind thought, conversation or saved seat that seem to say, take my hand and we can walk this road together. As I consider the blessings of my life, both the one's that felt like blessings and also the one's that felt like a kick in the gut while I was in the midst of them (but are blessings in disguise), I can say without a doubt and despite my many shortcomings, that that is the woman I want to become.

The older girls are at a friend's house and the little girls are upstairs chatting with each other. (They are actually supposed to be sleeping...) Theoretically, I should be being super productive right now with all this quiet time. You know, like cleaning my house or folding laundry or something. There couldn't be anything further from what I want to do at this moment. {sigh} Someone please just take pity on me already and deliver me an Alice.